Until the end
by DanieSora
Summary: After the cold war two veterans meet and fall in love. Ivan is forced to move to the U.S.A and becomes a florist. The mechanic Alfred lives near and they fall in love but a patriot's heart and mission will tear them apart. Rated: T for some sexual content and unnecessary drama. (old 'All good things come to an end')


**Pair:** Russia/America | **Rated:** T for some sexual content | **Style:** AU, Drama.

Summary: After the cold war two veterans meet and fall in love. Ivan is forced to move to the U.S.A and becomes a florist. The mechanic Alfred lives near and they fall in love but something will tear them apart.

It was the winner for my 20Th story :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia or the Vietnam War. It's merely fictional and based in real events.

* * *

Alfred life was an interesting one, at least on his modest opinion.

He was born on the United States of America, the best country on the world and was raised with the most caring and wonderful brother. Matthew.

His father was a war soldier that died on the Second World War; he was his inspiration of life and the reason he was so patriotic. He had brown eyes and gorgeous blonde hair, Alfred inherited his sunny blonde hair.

His mother was a sweet domestic woman who started working and gave a wonderful life to his son's; Alfred inherited her beautiful fierce blue eyes and passion.

At the tender age of 19 years he was called to the Cold War and with enthusiasm he faced 3 years of fighting with the soviets. He accepted it with pride and devotion.

Three years later, tiring days, weeks and months he was called back. The war was over.

After the war he came to America, he was rewarded as a War Hero, even being only 21 years old, and restarted a Life in the city of Lights.

Soon he travelled through America and after many woman, affairs and turns of life he settled down in a small Village.

There he became a mechanic, old knowledge from the War was useful to his new job, and started working for two German brothers. Even facing a few stereotypes they were trusted and good people so Alfred got along with them with ease.

Ludwig was a stoic blond and the main mechanic. Gilbert, one albino that liked to point that he was 'Prussian', not German, was the annoying brother that helped Ludwig. They owned the mechanic and were the only mechanics of the Village but Gilbert said they were the best of the country either way.

He enjoyed his work; he had contact with the few people who came along, heard their life stories and even helped them while did something physical. It was good for him, _rewarding_.

He also kept in touch with his brother Matthew who was on Canada living with a Cuban girl, that he hated with devotion, but made his brother happier than ever.

It was a nice fulfilling life even with the little ills that the War left on his mind but there was something missing.

Alfred really missed the feeling of being in love, the feeling of desperate need and touch-, he missed a lover. Not just a lover, _the lover_, the one a romantic at heart as he wishes to find someday.

Four years later he found it on the most unbelievable place.

On an autumn day he went to the florist.

A nice old neighbour died so he decided to be polite and place a flower on her grave to pay her respect.

He entered on the tiny florist and was met with beautiful flowers; lilies, roses and sunflowers were the major ones. They were all take care and sorted by colour but there were many colours, shapes but some contrasted in colour and quantity. On his left, white lilies, on his right yellow sunflowers and in the front red roses. Taking care of the red, water dropping roses was a tall silvery haired man touching the dirt of the vases with care.

Alfred walked inside and the man looked back regarding him with curiosity, he asked what he wanted and Alfred frowned heavily when the Russian accent appeared shyly in a childish voice. It was the paranoid and fear from the old days and he knew that but he couldn't help feel wary.

As if on mission he started walking to the florist once in a while, he needed to know that Russian was safe and wasn't planning to conspire against his beloved country.

One day the Russian got tired of the suspicious and easily recognized routine and made his mind known. For the fist time in two months Alfred saw the man doing another face than smiling shyly. The Russian was frowning.

''I am not a Soviet and I merely wish to build a life in America Mister-…'' Ivan started trailing his name and he easily turned to him with narrowed eyes.

''Jones, Alfred Jones red! And I am sure of it…''

''Mister Jones, I do not enjoy that you are constantly here just to mock me. I am a working man and I am sure you have, with all the respect, better things to do.'' He said with a tired tone that suggested that it was a daily occurrence.

''What if I don't trust you, commie?'' Alfred frowned, actually being suspicious of the Russian was the only thing he did after working. Hey don't judge, he fought them! They are tough bones! He was still dealing with heavy paranoia and dreams. Besides his life was pretty boring…

''Your problem, not mine. I have my mind clean and only pretend to work to pay my life.'' The tall Russian shrugged his broad shoulders and Alfred frowned.

''Prove to me that you are not a red commie.'' Alfred challenged and the Russian raised a pale brow at that.

''I am Ivan Braginsky, an American citizen, I do not need to prove myself.'' He murmured and turned to putt water on the red living roses. Alfred wondered for a moment if the Russian took such good care about the other flowers too.

''That's not enough.'' Alfred smirked and Ivan shrugged again walking to the sunflowers with a small smile.

''Come tomorrow and prove that you deserve to know more.'' He challenged back and Alfred grinned a bit taken aback with that.

''Sure thing commie.''

Ivan sighed softly and started taking care of the sunflowers and Alfred just saw that yes, he was even more careful with them. Gently the gloved big hands started caressing the petals and Alfred walked away.

He started walking to the little store every day then. He learnt the Russian was very fun to be around when he started to open himself. It took three months though but Alfred was a persistent man. After that rocky start he was the one deciding to befriend him either making himself a bit confused but not worried.

Alfred found that they got along just fine if they didn't talk about politics or the Cold War. Besides they bonded in small things.

They were both Cold War veterans. Alfred was now 26 years old, 3 years of service on war and Ivan 29 years old with 5 years of service. They were both single man on the small village and even lived 2 blocks away, something they never imagined.

Alfred missed dearly his own brother and Ivan missed his two sisters. A big one, who he said was the most caring, sweet girl and a little one who he refused to talk much but said was breathtaking and very devoted.

Alfred learnt that Ivan came to America because he was disappointed with the country he lived and the harsh life that made him walk away and seek somewhere else to build life. Many people did the same and his sisters were on Europe separated. Alfred saw the sadness the Russian felt on his eyes and finally released the last of his paranoid and suspicious feelings.

They created a soft friendship with each other, Ivan was very respectful and sweet under the huge intimidating look and Alfred was very optimistic and loud creating a good air around them. They were both a bit lonely and soon became greatly attached.

Alfred had a few friends, including his working friends, Ludwig, Gilbert and Feliciano, a restaurant owner that appeared many times on his work for some reason. He never gave much thought on that. They were great drinking and fun company.

Ivan was a friend for all the other times. Even those he wouldn't admit out loud.

After one year and half after the little incident on the florist Alfred realised how cute the Russian looked when the spring came and the flowers blossom. A flustered feeling suddenly became nauseating and he came to a terrific conclusion.

He fell in love.

Not only for an ex-enemy but also for a man; his male friend that remained oblivious and would call him to watch movies or simply walk on the park at the end of the busy days making him even more ashamed.

He was raised for very catholic parents, he always thought he would find a lovely woman, like his mother, create a family and suddenly he was staring bashfully to an exited talking Russian and worrying his lower lip.

After a lovely evening of stargazing with his friend he walked to his bed, grabbed the fluffy pillow and started to cry. Not only he was a shame for his beloved dead parents but he also couldn't leave his friend alone again. He was selfish and couldn't be so incomplete again… Ivan made him feel complete and at ease. He would be there when he was feeling down, philosophic or even simply normal. He brought a happy and calm feeling to his life and it would be incomplete if he was gone.

He cried harder. He realised that he never felt that way before and it hurt.

Ivan noticed the detachment of his friend and Alfred covered it with tiredness and longing from his brother. Because of that Ivan felt he had to do something and gave him a few red roses. Alfred flushed and gulped dryly, his favourite roses; he fell in love and couldn't admit. It was wrong, shameful and Alfred simply wanted to crawl into a hole and bury himself there.

Two months later Gilbert drank too much and confided to Alfred that his brother and the little Italian were living together. Gilbert complained about being left alone and how wrong it was. He showed him the little cross he wore every day and Alfred wanted to run away but simply patted his shoulders telling him that it's a misunderstanding.

He wished his feelings were the misunderstanding there but somehow he couldn't find the will to judge or even talk about it. He wished happiness to his friends and he clearly saw that they were very happy together. He wondered if Ivan would leave him if he found it out.

That night he prayed that Ivan remained oblivious to his feelings.

Two months passed and Ivan started to watch him with a bit of hurt wondering if was his fault that the American was starting to detach himself from him. When he realised something very similar to Alfred he started to do the same. _Perhaps he needed the American a bit more that he should yes?_

It was a long painful months for both but they were still going out every Friday and Sunday. Those were the best days of their whole week.

On a winter Thursday Alfred burnt a hand while welding a car piece.

Gilbert being the loud mouth he is made the rumour that Alfred was on the hospital in critical state and when it came to Ivan ears he left the florist, barely closing it, and ran to the hospital.

The encounter was very awkward. Ivan was bashfully apologising for entering there running and Alfred laughed placing the good hand on his face to make it stop.

They stood in silence as purple met blue and Alfred started shivering in a nervous fear that only fear mixed with nervous love can bring.

Alfred looked away in shame and laughed nervously as Ivan placed a hand on his and brought it down softly never letting it go.

When Ivan took Alfred home Alfred told him lowly that he was thinking about moving away to another town and Ivan stared at him in pain and confusion. He started telling him how it would be fun and the best but Ivan simply asked 'why'. Alfred couldn't lie to the heartbroken face of the Russian and admitted softly that he felt something for him that no man should feel for another and Ivan simply gazed him with confusion as Alfred looked down uncomfortably and ashamed.

After a few seconds of sinking information Ivan told him he can't leave and Alfred started shaking again as Ivan walked to him and closed the distance.

''I think I am feeling the same.'' It's the last thing Ivan tells him in a reticent shy voice and Alfred closes the space between their faces kissing him chastely. It was their first kiss, quick, sloppy, shaky and Alfred glasses hit Ivan cheeks twice but it was the most relieving and intense kiss they ever had.

They started dating slowly and gradually.

Both were strangers to the feelings they built and soon both realised they liked the slow knowing pace. It was a bit awkward and many fears and maturities were developed and surpassed together. They knew what to expect after each baby step and relished on that feeling that it didn't diminished the passion and intensity one bit.

When chaste touches and nights came to passionate displays of intimacy and passion they had to decide the sexual act with a bet. Both were very afraid of the bottom place of the sexual act so they decided they would switch and find their own pace.

Alfred lost the bet and was the first being penetrated. Ivan was slow, careful and treated him as he was something precious. It was indeed painful but fulfilling. Alfred couldn't wish for nothing more when they finished and relished the feeling of each other arms. When things inverted Alfred was too eager and overwhelmed and was quicker and rougher letting Ivan a bit sorer. Alfred didn't mind at all the payback for that.

In 2001 Alfred was 31 years old and Ivan 34. They were dating for four years and living together by three. Their friends and living family knew and accepted it more or less and even after some fights their passion was still young and renewed every day. Yes, right now Alfred felt complete. He had a nice job albeit a bit boring; he had enough money and shared a house with the love of his life.

His life was indeed good but all good things come to an end.

It was a working Monday when a little letter came to their mail box. Alfred grabbed it with not much care and opened it with curiosity after reading the front showing it was a military card.

It was a call for the Afghanistan war that reached a decisive level and the U.S was making a tactical attack with the great soldiers that were still registered. Alfred being registered as single was one of the first ones being called to the front.

He sat on the couch waiting for Ivan to come home. He really wanted to go but… and Ivan? What would he think…?

Ivan came home after 40 minutes with a bag of groceries and kissed his cheek noticing the distant look on blue eyes.

''What is being wrong _dorogoy_?'' he asked with concern placing the bags on the counter and sitting on his side.

''I was called to fight again…'' he showed the letter and Ivan frowned with an unreadable look on his eyes.

It was known that Alfred was very patriotic and wished to fight once again for his country. It was also known that Alfred was a bit bored with the routine of his job so Ivan simply placed the card on his lap and looked up with wide amethyst orbs.

''You wish to go.'' He stated and Alfred closed his eyes nodding. Yes but… and Ivan?

Ivan only stands and walks out the door.

Alfred knows he does that when he's mad, hurt or simply needs to think. He is not sure what Ivan is feeling but he doesn't eat and when he came back Alfred was lying on the bed and Ivan simply took his clothes, stepped inside the bed and kissed his ear with a low ''You can go, I understand.''.

The next weeks were weird for both. Alfred was anxious and a bit hesitant.

He really wanted to go; he wanted to prove himself again, to compensate the memories of his parents and lack of children. Ivan would be a wonderful parent with his sweetness and protectiveness and he knows he would love to have a little hero at home. He wanted to tell that to Ivan but he didn't need. He knew Ivan was aware of his struggles and worse, he knew Ivan also had his familial ones.

Letting Ivan alone was his major concern. Ivan was more fragile than he would appear. He was very sweet inside and Alfred _knows_ he will suffer with the distance. He will also suffer with it, Ivan became his life but it will be quick and soon he will be home. He just _knows_.

They didn't want to tell goodbye so they didn't. They enjoyed the last nights together as young teens. They lavished each other with silly words and caresses. They touched as memorizing each inch of flesh and they talked about starts because it was the only topic they would agree and turn into a beautiful peaceful night.

Morning came too quick and Ivan took Alfred to the airport.

A few people were saying their goodbyes. A few couples and a few friends stood laughing, sobbing or simply talking.

Alfred and Ivan exchanged a few words and a too tight hug.

When they fell apart a stray hair fell on Alfred face and Ivan rearranged it softly with a sad smile.

''I will miss you Alfred.''

''I will be here in a wink dude, don't fret'' Alfred laughed nervously and Ivan snorted making Alfred grab the lingering hand on his ear and kiss it softly.

Ivan flushed and in a blink Alfred was walking to his plane leaving Ivan gazing the blond with a dread feeling.

A rose scent smell and aftershave filled his nose and he looked to his side. A smiling long-haired blond was gazing sadly to the men walking to the plane and he looked again to his front.

''That was your lover _non_?'' The man asks in a heavy accented voice and Ivan frowns with annoyance.

''Don't worry, I simply noticed it…'' The man assured and Ivan looked to him with narrowed suspicious eyes. The French man smiles sadly and points to the men walking to the place.

''My lover is that one, the one with the hideous green coat…'' He chuckles fondly and Ivan looks in front to a blond man who was entering on the plane.

''How appropriate.'' he murmurs not wanting to follow the talk but the other kept talking.

''He still thinks he works for the Queen even being here… and now he leaves me like this, how cruel…'' The man places a hand on his chest and Ivan looks away humming knowing that Alfred is on the plane. If he was religious he is sure he would pray on his knees every night but he is not so he will simply wait.

Long and wait.

''You may be a tough one _monsieur_ but your eyes don't lie… I'm sure they will come back soon… and alive!'' The French places a hand on his shoulders and he finds that he doesn't care about it. He simply sighs and murmurs ''I hope so.'' as the man finally leaves him standing gazing the quickly leaving plane.

.

Alfred adapts really quickly to his comrades. He was always a sociable person and it brings vantages. He is glad Ivan never tried to stop him but he is still worried. He couldn't love the other more and knows the feeling is mutual but he can't stop worrying deep down._ Will he be alright alone? Will he eat properly? Will he feed their cat? OMG What if he snuggles the cat too strongly and kills him?_

His mind ran miles for minute but the orders made him come to the present. Yes, a mission. He will have his last fight and maybe they can have a kid someday… who knows?

The first training week was quick and he made a few friends.

A male British was the man he chooses to have as a friend. He was reliable and strong even looking smaller and thinner than most. It was a good soldier and even helped him to get out of trouble. Their meeting was a strange one though.

''Hey dude what's up?'' Alfred asked to the British man who frowned harder.

''Bloody git! You are in army, behave like a soldier.'' He yelled making a few soldiers stare at them and laugh.

Arthur Kirkland was the British man and the other soldiers already knew he was demanding and placed them all in order. He believed in proper soldiers. Alfred was a bit rebellious to follow orders though.

''I am behaving like one! Are your eyebrows affecting your mind? '' Alfred asks teasingly as the man on his side looks at him in shock. Arthur hits his head and smirks.

''You-you twat! ''

Alfred frowns wondering that reacting and rolls his eyes in sarcasm.

''Hey don't be that offended… ''

''Only one person talks about my eyebrows and I won't have another blonde stuck with me the rest of my life!'' He walked away and Alfred wondered is he was married. He never saw a ring on his fingers though.

He looked to his empty hand and sighed. He missed Ivan. He should have bought a ring even knowing they won't marry. Suddenly he feared that Ivan met someone else to substitute him.

.

Alfred calls Ivan twice a week. It's the most they can talk and they talk about their days and confess with their voices and tone how much they miss each other.

They never told each other that in a direct way but there was no need. The trembling voice of Ivan tells Alfred all he needs and when he clicks the phone off Alfred cries silently. He enjoys greatly his trainings and the mission they will make but he misses his lover a lot and knowing he is sad and alone because of him breaks his heart. At least the cat is _alright_.

.

Soldiers talk is the thing they have at night and diner. Sometimes they talk about their wife's, women and girlfriends.

Bob was talking about his sister and his wife and turned to Alfred with teary eyes and a soft smile. ''And you Alfred, anyone waiting for you at home?''

Alfred looked around, he loves attention but he's private, especially about his condition.

Homosexuality is frowned upon and he knows he would lose respect among other things telling it so he smiles and pretends to talk about a woman.

''Someone beautiful is waiting for me. She's sweet, gorgeous and Russian believe it or not.'' He chuckles and another man laughs.

''Those Russian women are gorgeous, you have good taste!''

''Yeah… I couldn't ask for more…'' Alfred flushed a bit and Bob steps in again.

''And the sex?'' they all laugh and flushes more.

''Best sex ever, Russians know what they are doing.'' He looked to Arthur who had a vacant look on green eyes and poked him.

''And you?''

''Too much perfume, too much clothes and too much passion… It was French so you imagine my fate.'' He complained frowning but Alfred saw the tiny longing on green eyes.

''Nothing good about her, uh?'' Bob laughed and Arthur smirked.

''Great hair and great on the bed but a bloody _pervert_.'' He grinned looking down and Alfred felt that something was off but didn't pressure.

.

Arthur and Alfred became good friends. Arthur was very protective of the blond and acted very brotherly towards him. Alfred found it annoying but didn't have the heart to stop him. Soon he found that Arthur was there because of a promise he made to his older brother. He realised he never asked if Ivan wanted to go back to his sisters.

Sometimes Alfred would talk with Arthur about Ivan. He always pretended to be a woman but sometimes his mouth slipped and Arthur would look at him with a paternal and confused face. Alfred laughed it off and Arthur would not say a thing. But one day it slipped in a way he couldn't deny any longer.

''I miss him so much…'' he tells softly and Arthur looks to him and he pales.

''My brother!''

''You were talking about _Vanya_, Alfred.''

''But I…''

''_Vanya_ is a male name isn't it?'' Arthur asks and Alfred can see that it holds no judgement and he sighs.

''I… please don't tell anyone…''

''I don't care lad…'' Arthur smirks and he frowns worrying his lip.

''If they know…. I'm not… It's just….''

''Just him, I understand Alfred.'' Arthur says and Alfred mouth makes an 'O'.

''_Francis_ is a man?'' Alfred asks and Arthur smirks.

''How clever. It took time. You Americans are very narcissistic to know other languages…'' Arthur snorts and Alfred frowns.

''Hey!''

''It's a unisex name, his birth name is _François_, very French and annoying.'' Arthur sighs and Alfred laughs.

''You are always complaining about French people.'' He laughed and Arthur smirked.

''I'm British, it's in my blood to hate them.''

''That's not a good excuse.''

''You are right Jones, he's the reason I hate them all.'' Arthur smirks and Alfred laughs.

''So all those things you said were lies?'' He asks with curiosity and Arthur scoffs.

''I wish! He's a bloody narcissistic model! He uses too much things, the only manly thing about him is his after shave and his dick!''

Alfred laughs and they fall in silence as Arthur shows and fond rare smile.

''How did you met?'' Alfred asks softly enjoying the little private moment they share.

''I was a tailor and he came to my store following an announcement for a fashion designer. He wished to stop modelling for some reason. He said it was lonely so he dedicated to fashion design. Well, he was annoying and pissed me off but he was really good so my boss contracted him and the rest is story… he's an annoying frog.'' He trailed and Alfred smiled.

''And yet you miss him…''

''I even miss his bloody perverted hands… '' Arthur shook his head and Alfred laughed.

After sharing his own story Alfred found himself being asked very personal that made him flush.

''You said she was well endowed does that mean…?''

''He _is_ well endowed. '' Alfred says cutting the conversation and Arthur laughed.

''American pervert… you fooled us well enough.'' Arthur admits and Alfred laughs.

''You were the one too '_dignified'_ to tell about her and now I know why too Artie.''

''I miss him Al… '' Arthur admits softly and Alfred sighs gazing the man entering their tent.

''I miss my _rusky_ too… '' he murmured with a small gaze.

.

The following days were a run through life. Trainings were harder and the last adjustments were being made.

Alfred being an optimistic and impulsive person wanted to be on the front row and was positioned there due his strength and abilities. He was good and everyone knew it.

On the end of the day he called Ivan again. One last call before the mission and soon he would get back, a nervous feeling followed him but he was sure everything would be fine.

''Baby, I'll be home soon.'' Alfred grinned to the silent Russian on the other side of the phone.

''Alfred.'' Was the only answer and Alfred frowned worry creeping on his heart.

''What's wrong?''

''Why did you start our conversation talking about that man?'' Alfred made a confused face and he could imagine how the Russian was twisting his fingers in the long scarf while holding the phone with one hand.

''I was only telling you how I found a cool friend here… he's like us and was a great help…'' he murmured looking to the door; he really needed a better place to talk with his lover. He was afraid of someone overhearing him on the phone.

''Are you cheating on me with him?'' Ivan steady collected voice asks and Alfred mouth opens gaping.

''What?''

''He's there isn't him? He's your friend and you talk every day with him… and I'm here alone waiting for you… it makes sense…'' Ivan trailed and Alfred could feel the desperation hidden in suppose calm.

''You are an ass… You know what we talk about? We talk about you and his boyfriend, a French dude… I can't believe you thought that I… shit… '' Alfred said irritated and suddenly the following silence was broken by silently sobs.

''Baby? Are you ok?''

''_Sunflower_, I… come back… promise you'll come back to me…'' he asked and Alfred smiled sadly as tears pricked his eyes.

''Of course my love. When I get back I have something very important to ask you… So just wait 'kay?'' Alfred smiled and looked to the ceiling as the door was knocked telling him his time was over.

''_Fredka_…'' Ivan trailed and Alfred sighed.

''I love you too big guy, I got to go now…''

The phone clicked shut and Alfred walked away from the calling room. That night he couldn't even speak to Arthur afraid of talking about Ivan again. This time he would not be able of holding the longing and worry.

.X.

Two days passed and Ivan had no news from Alfred.

His whole body felt exhausted. His mind nervous and preoccupied but he constantly told himself that Alfred is too tough to let something as tiny as a little mission to break him. Besides they are both veterans, he knows Alfred is a hard bone.

His day on the florist was worse than all the days he has been through since Alfred went to Iraq. His apron was dirtied by dirt and a few smashed flowers. With his mind so far away he became a bit nervous and things got smashed. He became clumsy and blames it on his big trembling hands.

Music filled the little florist as a few costumers came and went away and in the afternoon the little radio on the table almost makes his breath stop with a recent news.

'_The United States of America invaded Iraq with success. There were 139 causalities on the American side. We could say it was somewhat a guaranteed victory.' _

The announcer says with a cheery voice and Ivan's breathing hitches and catches on his throat_, only 139 soldiers? Oh God, Is Alfred one of them? He is not for sure! _

He closes the florist an hour before the normal closing time and walks home to be on the phone side. He would not leave it until Alfred calls him.

Meanwhile the cheers of the soldiers were filed with bittersweet victory as the causalities where counted and names were said. Arthur Kirkland stood side by side of Bob Stiller their comrade and somewhat friend.

Arthur green eyes were reddish and a clench of teeth showed his sadness ad Bob simply bowed listening names. _Causalities, deaths._

_Arthur Bullock, Alfred Jones, Alexander Nic-_

The names kept sounding and on the end the cheered victory didn't sound as one.

Bob walked to Arthur who sat staring at the little cabinet where they are waiting to call their families and sat on his side.

''Will you call his brother and girl?''

'''I don't have his number…'' Arthur murmured and bob frowned.

''And the-?''

''I don't have the number! They won't give us because they want to pay respects… Oh bloody hell…. The poor man will be the last to know…'' Arthur grabbed his hair and closed his eyes in frustration and Bob looked at him confused.

''I am sure his brother will be the first to know Arthur...''

''Sod off!'' Arthur yelled and walked away murmuring to himself angrily.

''Won't you call your lady?''

''Later… the frog will understand…'' he yelled and Bob made a confused face that soon became a bit suspicious albeit not so judgemental as they would think.

.

Three days.

Three awfully terrific days passed since the radio news and not a single call.

Ivan hasn't slept and barely ate. Feliciano even went to his florist to cheer him up but nothing could do the trick. Even Ludwig and Gilbert brought beer but he politely refused and kept saying that he only drank vodka.

That third day was chaotic and he was so exhausted he decided to close the florist at 10am, at 10:15 a ring sounded on the door and he almost ran to it.

He was expecting a loud blonde that certainly would be hit violently for the pain he caused but it was a quiet long-haired blond he saw. Alfred's brother, Matthew.

The face was so similar to his lover that he wanted to punch him, or kiss him he was not sure but was pissed enough to punch him but the red eyes behind glasses made him stop and freeze in place shivering.

''Ivan…'' the quiet blond started and he shook his head.

''_Nyet_!''

''Please listen to me, Alfred-''

''_Nyet_! Stop, don't you dare!'' Ivan said in a dark tone that made the blond start tearing and clench his chest with one hand.

''Alfred is dead….''

''No… No… _Nyet_! He can't…'' his voice cracked and his eyes started tearing, _no… he couldn't do that! He __**promised**__ to come back!_

Matthew grabbed a little bad that was on the ground, but Ivan haven't noticed, and took a flag with Alfred beloved gun giving it to Ivan who was still shivering and shaking his head.

''He would want you to have this… I may not understand but, he, he really loved you.'' The blond stepped placing the folded American flag and dark gun on his shaking arms and he dropped it on the ground and shoved Matthew outside the entrance of the house.

Matthew stared at him wide tear eyed and Ivan simply closed the door yelling ''Go away! He will come back to me.''. Matthew cried harder and Ivan knelt on the ground crying above the not so folded flag and gun.

Two days passed and Ivan hasn't left the house as he held a framed picture that showed Alfred on his most beautiful moment. Both were there but Alfred looked so happy and beautiful that he framed it and kept it near the sofa to look at it when he was far.

His heart was broken, his mind exhausted and his eyes had no more tears. He kept looking at the phone with lazily moved and a pounding headache hoping for some call from the Army, his Alfred. _Oh God, his Alfred will come back. He must come back._

He ignored the yelling of an annoyed declared Prussian on his door, the crying of an Italian and the commanding voice of a German. Alfred's friends. They were also his by extension but they were much more his friends that Ivan's friends for sure.

Matthew also pounded on the door, albeit more quietly than the others, a few more times. He didn't even move from the couch where the flag and gun rested on his side.

On the third day he walked slowly and tiredly to his florist.

The flowers were dying.

His beloved Sunflowers were poetically wilted. The sunny petals that reminded him of his lover hair were brownish and mushy. He cringed his nose and looked to the other side avoiding that disgraceful sight.

On the other side were the poor lilies. They were so sad and in need that he didn't have the courage or not giving them water before cutting them from their roots to putt them on the mini sanctuary that Alfred had on the living room. Dust filled the sanctuary and he regrets not having taking care of it for _him_.

The roses kept glowing in a red vibrant colour and their smell almost covered the wilted musk of many flowers.

Red roses, Alfred's favourite. If he was not there to buy one or even look at them and appreciate the effort Ivan made on them they should not be so wondrous.

He grabbed them and crushed them all.

The thorns cut his hands that for once were not protected by dark gloves and the red petals cried falling on the ground smashed.

He looked around and suddenly hated everything about that place. The place where they met, where they developed a great friendship and soon became lovers. The place he created to live. _He hated it!_

He closed the store and ignored the pain twist his stomach gave.

He had nothing to live now. Nothing to love.

No flowers, No Alfred. Nothing.

For once in five days he decided to eat but he was not hungry and suddenly he was very thirsty.

He bought too many bottles of Vodka ignoring the surprised look of the cashier.

He knew he looked awful. Dark bags under his eyes, his hair dirty and unsettled and even his clothes were wrinkled and dirtied. Dirt, smashed petals and bloodied marks on them. He neglected for completely the numb pain on his hands. Thorns were still there. His eyes… His eyes were so tired that he was sure the purple became glassed and cloudy.

He couldn't care less.

When he got home there was a message on the phone and he clicked to hear it. It was somewhat surprising. It made him feel even guiltier from their last talk.

''_Hello''_ a heavily accented voiced started and he frowned.

''_My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am saddened to call you in these circumstances but truly felt the need to call you at least once so I searched your contact. It seems my lover knows Alfred brother and so it was easier than I though. I am afraid this is not what I wanted to say, I simply wanted to ask you forgiveness for not having called you first. You see, they don't give us the numbers but Alfred would want you to be the first to know. ''_

A heavy silence followed and Ivan realised this must be the man he was jealous off. _Why is he calling? Why can't they leave him alone for once?_

''_He talked quite much about you, he missed you dearly and, I am sure you know it, he loved you dearly. More than any person can love another. ''_ he started sniffing and tears came to Ivan eyes. His Alfred surely could melt anyone. He was truly amazing and kind.

''_I have also a lover and understand how much you must be suffering but let me tell you that he wouldn't like that. He was very strong-willed and I am sure you know he wanted your happiness more that everything. I… I apologise for intruding but I really needed to tell you this. The last thing he wanted you to be was miserable because of him. Thank you for listening. Goodbye Sir.''_

The click sounded and an annoying _bip bip bip_ followed.

Ivan drank a whole bottle of Vodka and finally found more tears to cry.

He thought drinking would easy his pain but the only thing he could think was how Alfred touched his heart. How he took him from a lonely life and brought him life and happiness.

His eyes stung and burnt. His hands were filled with thorns that would be infected if he hadn't let Vodka fall on them in his drunken stupor, and his breathing came heavy and painful.

The gun shone with the glint that came from the morning sun on the covered window and he took a look at it. It was a semi automatic pistol, with the Calibre 45 mostly known as M1911A1. Alfred's precious friend from the Cold War and the beloved gun he took to the Vietnam.

He opened the cartridge, saw that it still had 3 bullets and closed it disconnecting the safety-pin gazing the gun lazily.

He has nothing to do _here_. His sisters were so far apart and probably happily married. His florist was destroyed and he hated it for everything it reminded him and his lover was dead. Dead…

He left and died. He died and took his heart with him leaving him cold, empty and alone.

He forced his heavy arm up and took a firm grip on the gun as she rested on his temple.

How funny. It feels the same as before. The same rush in the blood and the same painful nauseating feeling he used to have before killing an enemy. This time he was sure the nauseating feeling was due the vodka because his mind felt calm and at ease for once in months.

With a last look on the framed picture that showed both laughing,- Alfred's vibrant blue eyes glowing behind glassed and a blond hair with a stubborn cowlick defying gravity making Ivan smile softly-, he pulled the trigger.

_If Alfred doesn't come back he will go to him._

* * *

**Notes:** This is inspirited on the year of 2002 when the USA invaded the Iraq and 139 American soldiers died on this same mission of Vietnam war. Alfred is one of them but it's purely fictional (with all respect for the real victims of course).

I apologise if It was not as strong as I wished. I also apologise that this is dramatic... Oh well...

This makes the target of 22 stories! yeah! Thank to all readers and people that talk to me even If I'm a pain on the ass xD

I apologise any mistake.

Reviews are needed.

Thank you.


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